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A prideful smirk crept over Jonas’s lips as his father put Silus in his place.
“I believe we’ve heard enough on the topic of Larissa Hostetler today,” Abraham announced. “Brother Silus, you may return to your seat. Let the record show that no new evidence in the girl’s whereabouts has been brought to light, and the command given by Bishop King remains in effect. Let us move on to the next matter.”
As Silus returned to his seat, he glared at Adam and Jonas. While the men in their family were innately kind, they were also loyal. No one would speak ill of Larissa without consequence. Not even her husband.
For all that Jonas missed his daughter, with the way things appeared, it might be best if she never returned.
Chapter 4
The stench of human waste lingered in the air. It was supper time for most mortals, the time when they settled into their homes for the night. However, Bishop Eleazar King would not be settling into his home because he was still tracking the Hartzler female.
He was disgusted. Humans were a withering species. In all his five hundred and twenty-six years he had never seen such a display of waste, rudeness, and utter disregard for morality.
Repulsed by the ideals held by the self-proclaimed most intelligent species, Eleazar did not want to spend another moment in this godforsaken place. The women ran around with little to no clothing covering their flesh. They, as well as the men, swilled their minds with alcohol and drugs. Babes were transferred from mothers’ breasts to strangers’ arms so that the females could run amuck in the overzealous capitalism.
Identities were not defined by character but rather by material and money. Elders were ignored and disrespected. Children were arrogant and vulgar. And the noise—when would it quiet? There was never a moment of silence among the English.
Eleazar was prepared to return home empty-handed. He would have never volunteered to track the sour brat, but it became apparent that Silus would severely punish her for running away, and Eleazar could not let that happen.
Eleazar reached for his overcooked meat sandwich and thought better of it. Pushing the paper-wrapped meal away, he stood to leave the establishment where he had hoped to find something resembling nourishment.
A female smiled at him, her thoughts unclean. What happened to the world since he last entered it?
Trying to be polite, he gave a tight-lipped grin and tensed when the female stood. She crossed the brightly-colored eatery and brazenly approached his table.
“Hey.”
Without altering his expression, he picked through the mortal’s mind. Twenty years old. An orgy of past intimacies littering her mind and a desolate sense of hollowness drowning her emotions. Disgraceful. The result of living a life without integrity or purpose.
“You want to go grab a drink and talk?”
Her words suggested conversation, but her mind played a carousel of lewd images of the two of them. Not used to seeing his likeness in such compromising positions, he drew back, appalled.
“Look at me.”
He held her gaze. Her overdone eyes were unfocused.
“Go home and dispose of all your clothing that does not cover your skin in a way your great-great-grandmother would find proper. Then wash that makeup off your face and pray for God’s mercy. And never approach a strange man in such a manner again.”
The child blinked at him, a little confused but under his compulsion nonetheless. She quickly left to do as he suggested. Eleazar mentally scoffed. As if he had time to save all the souls of this English nightmare.
He had only one soul he needed to save and that was Larissa Hartzler’s. If he didn’t find her soon, this journey would be labeled a failure, and he’d never forgive her.
Abandoning the restaurant, he left the city and traveled along a deeply wooded forest. Even the woodlands were not natural here. There was not an acre of earth left untouched by the English.
He passed small kiosks and podiums that declared the woods to be a state park as he hunted. Too many screaming children nearby made it difficult to find other forms of life. Standing still, he shut his eyes and searched nature’s vibration for a quick pulse.
His mind locked on a deer. Its quick-leaping instincts giving its variety away. Yes, a whitetail. Eleazar latched onto the animal’s cognitive process and compelled it to find him. Seconds later, the doe was licking his fingertips.
“Good girl.” Crouching down, he stroked the animal and stared into her soft brown eyes. “Calm. Very good.”
Tipping the animal’s muzzle back, he located the thick cord of its carotid artery and sank his fangs into its flesh. Its spindly hind leg twitched, but it didn’t bolt. He soothed the animal as he fed, not wanting to cause any harm. When he finished, his body was somewhat satisfied, yet his mind was not.
